My Name is Harry Potter
by Sound-Asleep
Summary: Harry Potter takes a visit to his parents' graves. [REWRITTEN]


Letting go is one of the hardest things a person can do. It requires courage, strength, understanding.. Ask anyone who's suffered hardship and they'll tell you -- letting go is indeed one of the most difficult things to do. Just letting go, releasing all that pent up fury and grief and guilt and shame. Just letting it all _go_.

I have to agree with those people. I just want to hold on to my feelings, keep them to myself. I don't want the world to see what I feel. But its constricting me slowly, asphyxiating me. In the end, I realize that letting go is my one-way ticket to a 'normal' life.

My name is Harry Potter. Letting go is the most difficult thing I've ever had the displeasure to do. I've tried to let go more times than any person my age ever should. I've seen an unfair share of death and murder, I've been witness to far too many gruesome things, and its all due to a single man.

On this night I walk a seemingly endless walk. The path seems to go on and on through the quaint countryside, an overgrown path covered in thick blades of grass and tangled weeds. My heart clenches uncomfortably with the knowledge that not many people have tread this path.

I've been meaning to do this for a long while. The mere thought of seeing _their_ graves has me struggling to breathe. Finally, a chance to let go.

The night is young, a velvety blanket of dusk with glimmering diamonds inlaid in a pleasing manner. The moon is like a giant pearl, showcased upon the velvet of night, wavering rays of mournful light shining bleakly upon me. I can see for miles, rolling hills of grass on either side that seem to go on forever. Time is left behind me, abandoned for awhile as I come to terms with this inner struggle in me. And ahead of me? All I see is an enclosed area, a looming gate of iron rising in the distance. My breath hitches at the sight and suddenly my legs are like lead, not so eager to walk. Fear overwhelms me and for a while I stop walking. The night's chilling embrace touches upon my icy skin, so soft and sweet against me, carressing away my fears and doubts. I close my eyes, savoring the saccharine sense of freedom that overcomes me. My feet begin to move again and I turn my eyes towards the alluring midnight sky. My gaze roams and finally falls, only to leave me breathless once more. I swallow hard, placing my hands against the rusted metal of the gate.

My heart is eased only slightly by the intricacy of the gate, an intricacy that someone had taken the time to complete. I swallow hard, my fingers tracing the elaborate patterns along it, losing myself in the beauty. But quickly, my fingers brush against a thick lock near the center and I fall back into the reality of what I have come to do.

I reach into my blazer and pull out my wand. "Alohomora," I whisper, and I'm stunned at how quickly the silence snatches away my voice. A resounding click sounds, breaking the silence with a thud as the heavy lock falls to the ground. Dirt kicks up in tiny swirls around it.

As I push the gate open it creaks loudly, ripping through the silence that was so quick to settle once more. I wince and slip through with haste, not bothering to push the gate shut once more. Turning, my eyes travel along the expanse of the graveyard. It curves up into a flattened hill, rows and rows of tombstones lined up. Weeds were everywhere, choking the life out of any plants that sought survival, but there were a few graves that were well tended to. I close my eyes in hopes of removing graves from my mind, but to no avail.

And there were so many graves... Each representing an individual soul that had been lost to the cause of bringing down one man. I want to cry so badly, and my eyes sting, but no tears fall. Desperation wracks through my body as dry sobs escape my throat. I shake my head hard, trying not to lose focus and I begin to walk through the rows in search of familiar names.

As I walked, I found most of them were familiar. I couldn't help but feel the pain that each family of each grave had felt. The pain of knowing... of knowing you'll never see that special someone again. The names left me with a quiet shame for the fact that I had yet to kill the man who had taken these lives. Guilt emits from my very being and my eyes travel to the next tombstone somberly. My breath catching in my throat, I fall to my knees, my eyes suddenly dull and lifeless as I read their names.

Lily Evans-Potter. James Potter. October 31, 1981.

Hesitantly, I reach out towards my mother's grave, tracing the carved letters of her name. A lump has risen in my throat and no matter how hard I swallow, it won't go away. Agony is all I feel, and yet I still have no tears to shed.

"'Lo mum.. It's me, Harry. I.. I'm not sure why... I'm.. here..." For once, words seem to fail me; those precious words that helped sway oh-so-many people to help me oh-so-very often. I avert my gaze, eyes falling instead towards my father's tombstone.

And that's when it suddenly hits me that I'm never going to see them. None of them. Not my mum, or my father, or Sirius or Dumbledore. It collides against me with such force that again, like so many other times this night, I forget how to breath. I'll never know what life would've been like with my parents or life with Sirius, or life with all of them here together. It fills me with remorse and an aching that leaves me with want. I _want_ so bad just to see them. To see Sirius, one last time... The tears I've suppressed all my life are finally set free, streams that flow from my emerald eyes.

"D-dad... tell mum I love her... That I miss... her hugs.." Of course, I don't remember a single hug from her, but memories of Mrs. Weasley's hugs get the better of me and leav me knowing that _that's_ just how my mum would've hugged me.. With all the love she could muster irradiating from her body to warm me.

"I love you, dad," I whisper, cleaning the dirt and dust from the lettering of his name. A weight is slowly, bit by bit, being lifted from shoulders as I realize that I am finally reunited with my parents. Not a joyous reunion, but a reunion no less. I look away once more, hot tears gathering in the grass. My eyes stop at yet another familiar name beside my father's grave.

The tears are an unstoppable force now. All I can feel is guilt and remorse.

Crawling to Sirius' empty grave, I can't help but feel that he would've liked to have been beside my dad for all of eternity, even if just symbolically. It just seems.. right. I smile amidst my tears, clinging to Sirius's grave wretchedly. The closest thing to a parent I've ever had. Hours escape me as I sit before three graves conversing to my parents and godfather. Moonlight wanes and dawn begins to peek out in the distance, waving her chipper hand at me. And just sitting there in the grass, I finally feel a sense of belonging in this world. Their faces, their youthful, unforgettable faces all smile at me. My father, with his sable hair that stood up in the back and his rascally, bold grin... My mother smiling a bashful smile, her viridescent eyes shining... And then Sirius, laughing his bark-like laugh with the pair of them, stormy eyes shimmering with mirth and mischief... Tears still hazy in my vision, I smile to myself at their own belonging... with each other.

My name is Harry Potter, and letting go is the most difficult thing I've ever had to do.

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**Author's Note-** I've completely rewritten this story. I wasn't originally pleased with it -- I always felt it was too short and not descriptive enough when it came to Harry's feelings. Anyways.. Hope you enjoy it. Hopefully, s'not _too_ boring now. I've been thinking about doing something from Remus's point of view. Not sure though. :)


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